


Wasting my time on an idiot like you.

by MacKyleMore



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Canon Setting, M/M, Oneshot collection, yet again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacKyleMore/pseuds/MacKyleMore
Summary: Making myself two new sets of compilation fics here because the first one turned into me just writing either more canon-place stuff or swapping into my own au... and so now I'm just gonna make two seperate new ones. (for personal ease of recollection and storing 😳 kinda more organized 😳)And that one old can be random shit unrelated if I ever feel up for it.You'd think by now I'd be done, right?... NAAAAHHere Goes. Canon Placement Portion.
Relationships: Forde/Kyle





	1. TurnAround

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this will be easier for me to look through now. Wish I would have done this from the beginning. Actually...
> 
> Also I can't lie. 90 percent of all my current WIP shit is Kyle persective-leaning and I don't wanna ruin my chapter POV swap I had going on in my OG compilation fic. But now my Kyle bias is getting the better of me and I swear I try and write Forde but... It is more difficult and not as fun... Even if every single fic Is The Same . oooooh my god . 
> 
> a documentary on the slow decent of madness and it's whatever the fuck i'm doing in the forde/kyle tag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many times can i write forde and kyle over and over, on and on using the same type of bickering conversation?
> 
> the answer is a whole lot.

"Pssst. _Kyle."_ Forde snaps his fingers to try and gain Kyle's attention. "Check this out..."

Griping loudly through a groan in irritation, Kyle looks up at Forde with his brow knitted confusingly.

"Real quick. _Guess who I am_." Broadening his shoulders as much as possible and clenching his hands into fists, Forde starts to stomp around. 

"What kind of game is this--"

"I said _guess._ Okay: _Check me out_." Forde cuts him off, ignoring Kyle's question and continuing on in what looks to be a game of charades. "Aren't I _remarkable_ over here? Look at me go... _I never make a mistake."_

Facial expression stoic and voice brought down to a husky and low growl; Forde marches around looking way too forcefully professional for his own personal taste.

"Ah- Ahem..." Clearing his throat, Kyle marvels at how quickly Forde can make Kyle's attention span do a 180. " _I do **not** act like that!"_

Forde jolts to turn his view back over to meet Kyle's eyes. Starting to grin as his act of stern falsehoods falter, Forde's voice returns to his normal and leisurely tone. 

"Not once did I say it was _you_ who I was pretending to be..." Forde laughs with a brightness in his eyes. "Yet you figured it out and knew? So I beg to differ. You _do_ act like that--"

Agh. _Damn._ Kyle just broke ground on his very own grave here, didn't he?

"I-I... I do not!" Kyle repeats in offense, stammering. His attention now being focused on Forde and Forde _alone_ as Kyle makes a move to lift himself up. "I could only infer you meant to mock _me_ because I know the way your brain works: _It doesn't_. So I know you like to over-exaggerate in your perception on how you think I present my character."

Voice layed-back to his usual and smile now widening all across his face: Forde however decides to not let up on his show of ' _Kyle-dramatization' **completely...**_ At his sides, Forde's knuckles are perpetually clenched white and his stance is anything _but_ relaxed.

"Ah ah _ahhh..."_ Forde chuckles, provoking Kyle more and more. "See what I mean? ' _I pr_ _esent my character'?_ As if _that's_ not something someone focused on their _perfect_ self would say--"

Using Kyle's own words against him; Forde persuades Kyle to want to make his initial 180 of attention relocation span back into a full on 360. But that would be giving Forde more material; Somehow, somewhere. Kyle knows Forde works with what he's got no matter the case.

So Kyle chooses to stand up for himself.

"No, Forde. I _don't_ act like this. I can promise you that." Kyle raises his voice. It won't change his argument's words for what they are... But maybe: The louder he projects them, the more solid it will make them appear in terms of believability.

_"..._ _Because."_ Kyle continues as he glares Forde down in what he realizes has become a strange sort of staring contest. "As you pretended to be me? You said something or another about me ' _never making mistakes...?_ ' I mean... _C'mon,_ Forde. Of _course_ I make mistakes. I _know **that**_ **.** I can accept that. _I admit I make mistakes."_

Forde looks back into Kyle's eyes fixedly and intimidating. "...Yeah? _You can_. I can't deny that-- But it's the fact that you so strongly think just because you're _admitting_ them, seems to mean that your acceptance alone is what _makes_ you flawless--"

_"Hush._ I never said that. All I said was I make mistakes. _Everyone does._ I don't think admitting them makes me ' _better'_ than anyone else... That's not what I'm trying to argue! You see, I'm making a huge mistake right now: The mistake of wasting my energy on you."

Forde still stands before Kyle with an obvious forced stress of his upper body in order to press on in making fun of Kyle.

Eventually-- _Posture still poised-_ \- The rest of Forde laughs breathlessly until he's hanging his head and has nothing more to look at than the ground.

If this were a full-blown staring match: _Forde would have just lost._

So why does it feel like Forde breaking eye-contact in order to laugh to himself means Kyle is the one falling back?

"Hmpf..." Kyle grumbles as Forde doesn't ever take _anything_ seriously; All before Kyle takes the next initiative... Because clearly Forde won't be the one to take that following step. _He's_ too busy finding something _funny_ in Kyle's self-defensive protection.

Agitated, Kyle stretches out to grab a firm hold onto Forde's shoulders. 

"Listen, Forde. _I **don't** act like that_. I'm not _that_ arrogant. I'm not **_this_** tense." Kyle shakes Forde to signify he's talking about how Forde is so keen on trying to make his chest and shoulders so strong-looking. "I don't walk around looking so _miserable_ all the time."

Recovering from his amusement, Forde lifts his head up again to look back at Kyle. "...You don't?"

With skepticism in his voice and an almost charming smile, Forde cocks his head.

_Wh-W-What's he doing_? Kyle thinks.

Seriously, Forde's only just standing here in front of him. 

But something in the _way_ Forde **looks** causes Kyle's grip on Forde's shoulders to tighten. A **_certain_** sign of stress: _Kyle accidentally proves Forde's mocking joke from earlier as true._

Forde notices, because he takes the opportunity to mention it. 

"See what I mean?" Forde says as he brings up a hand of his own to reach for and feel the knotted muscles in one of Kyle's biceps. "You are exerting so much extra energy in grabbing a hold on me like you are. I can _feel_ it."

"...Hnnn" Kyle strains his voice, all before eventually forcing himself to try and relax his grip on Forde. "... _Am not."_

Staring back in silence at Kyle... Forde is...

_Pressuring._

_"Ugh."_ Kyle gives up and his fingers clench yet again over Forde's build in frustration. "...Why do you always have to be after me, Forde?"

Kyle's hands remain on Forde's shoulders. _For some reason_. Kyle hasn't found the heart to remove them. He's already expressed what he has wanted to in this action: In fact him doing so only ended up coming back around _against_ Kyle's favor. So he can't exactly figure out why he can't find it in himself to back off...

Perhaps it is due to the fact that Kyle feels it is easier to get through to Forde this way-- The closer they stand-- Like they're speaking directly at one another.

But Forde's own hand still rests on one of Kyle's shoulders just the same: An unspoken mutual agreement.

As Forde is running it up and down the top of Kyle's arm, Kyle can _physically **feel**_ how full of ease and calm Forde _**really** is._

...Even if he _was_ making a scene before to make himself appear stressed so that he could try and act like Kyle.

Forde is _still_ so relaxed.

"Oh, _Kyle._ You say that as if you aren't ever after me yourself." Forde shakes his head. Forde pats Kyle's shoulder with an incredibly _gentle_ touch... _Forde's next smile eats away at Kyle's psyche._ "I'm allowed to make fun of how you act; Because you always do the same in terms of calling me lazy and unsensible. In fact, no one told you not to mock me just as I have here _... I say go for it_. Turn it around: Show me how _you_ perceive _me."_

...Uh. Well... _That's fair_. Forde's not _wrong._ Kyle has his moments where he constantly _is_ picking apart Forde's way of living. (Because Forde functions just so _differently_ than Kyle does. In Kyle's eyes, Forde functions in _correctly_. So of _course_ Kyle should get a say from time to time.)

But now that Kyle's been put on the spot!? Now that Forde's _encouraging_ Kyle to judge Forde...?

_Now_ Kyle doesn't know where to start!

As Forde proceeds in soothingly caressing Kyle's arm: It almost feels like a brand of hot coals boring into Kyle's flesh.

"Uh... Ah... Uh..." Kyle stammers as he tries to figure out how he should mock Forde. 

Because now Forde is expecting it. Whatever Kyle could do, _Forde can predict_. So, Kyle can't exactly point out the _obvious_ stuff that he _usually_ does. Kyle can't remind Forde how **_careless_** and _**without thought**_ he is; _Since Forde already knows that._

And if Kyle repeats that type of stuff that Forde is used to anyway... Forde will _surely_ use it against Kyle to further confirm the things he was saying earlier on his personal exaggerations of Kyle's attitude.

"Uh. _Okay._ You want me to act as you? It's my turn to speak in mannerisms as if they were _yours_ and hold my own as if _I_ were _you?"_ Kyle questions to stall for time.

"Sure. That's only fair... _Since I was mocking you before._ I'll hold no grudge."

Forde may often _judge_ Kyle's decisions... But...

_That's the thing_. Kyle realizes. It doesn't exactly **stop** there. Forde will _also **praise**_ a selection of Kyle's choices.

As for Kyle... _Kyle can't remember the last time he let Forde know what **he personally** respects about Forde._

To Kyle... That's what _doesn't_ seem fair.

_Oh no._ Kyle's only choice for acting as Forde: Is to in doing so, _show off Forde's good side._

"Well..." Kyle mumbles, hesitant to start. " _Who am I..._? I am... _helpful._ I-- I uh... I truthfully give those around me a reason to smile. And it's a mu-much uh... A much nicer place-- _Around the uh... **castle--**_ With me in it to lighten the moods of--"

"Heh-Hey..." Forde starts as he interrupts Kyle in order to finally nudge Kyle's hands off from his shoulders. One hand lingers in holding one of Kyle's wrists, now that Kyle's arms hang back at his side again.

"Y-Y-You were supposed to be pretending to be _me...!"_ Forde chokes. "Not... Not _you!"_ Forde almost looks flustered himself. Stuttering. _Definitely,_ he was _not_ expecting Kyle to say that type of stuff about him.

But Kyle-- Arms at his side now with the faint ghostly touch of Forde's fingertips on his skin-- Also himself could have _never_ forseen Forde to try and swap Kyle's compliments to Forde as if they were instead compliments to Kyle.

"I... I _was."_ Kyle admits. As maybe confessing what he reeeaaally _likes_ about Forde is a little overdue. "I was acting as _you,_ I... I mean. Because **that's** who you _are._ That's my perception of you: _When it comes down to it..._ You... You know-- You liven up the souls of others."

Forde forces himself to frown as if to keep an involuntary smile away. "No... _really..."_ He starts.

_"I really think that's just **you** explaining **yourself!**_ **"** Forde restates. "And again, I am as right as I was earlier. You make no mistakes! _Because you always know just what to say._ There's no one else you could be projecting as instead of yourself. Because... It's _you_ giving _me_ reason to smile."

Aaahh. _Nooooo._

How is Forde so... Hhrrrmm...

_Kyle groans in his head._

Forde won't even let Kyle get a single appreciative sentence in; Not without being sure to always remind Kyle of not only Kyle's _flaws_ but also where he thinks Kyle _excels._

Kyle doesn't know what to say.

_Everything he says will just be turned around again._

Kyle grumbles as he decides to come a little closer and wrap his arms over Forde's shoulders.

_"Hhm--!?"_ Forde sounds in shock.

_**"Not** me."_ Kyle demands, using an embrace as a scapegoat. **"You** would do _this_ sort of thing. I was talking about _you._ Not myself. _Kyle_ would _never_ want to pointlessly hug someone. Only _Forde_ would do something _that_ uneccessary."

_Yeah._ Kyle thinks to himself. _Kyle'd never want to pointlessly hug someone._

Because it being **_pointless_** and it **_meaning_** something are two _completely different things._

"..." As Forde collects his thoughts, he returns Kyle's move and wraps his own arms around Kyle. "Uh _huh..._ **Okay.** Fine. Maybe I was wrong in making you out to be so tense and forlorn... Because this is a pretty **_inviting_** hug you're giving me, here. No matter if you mean it as yourself, or if you mean it to mock as me... But..."

Forde trails off as he pats the small spot in between Kyle's shoulder blades.

"I guess I _can't_ say all I claimed before was true. _Because you're right_. You _do_ make lots of mistakes. Right now, your biggest one is thinking _I'm_ the one that livens this place up... But, Thanks, though; By the way... _You're the best."_

Head over Forde's shoulder, Kyle allows himself to smile. 

So this is how Forde consistently keeps himself so relaxed? Giving compliments when needed instead of only complaints all the time...? Surely hearing them from Kyle may make Forde feel good about himself, but...

It feels surprisingly nice for Kyle to actually get to instead _tell_ them to Forde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why the fuck i still like forde and kyle so much. why couldnt god abandon me in a normal way.


	2. What's Yours is Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought I'd seen it all in my committed insanity but that was all nothing. i've reached a new peak in that i am updating this from the ER waiting room.
> 
> take that information with a grain of salt lol.
> 
> some slightly post war time period castle Homoerotic Knightly Relations to calm my anxieties. Eph I think your retainers are kissing again

As Forde heaves the top of one of the chests in his room closed, a path of light from the window spreads itself out to shine across the floor from where the lid previously blinded it.

Looks to be a bright morning. Well, not 'looks'. _Is._ To make sure he's not harming his eyes, Forde brings the side of his hand to his brow to act as a shade, before he turns around to face in the opposite direction. 

With morning casting light into his space, he notices a pair of gloves that normally wouldn't be set out on the side of his table. 

Strange. Why are they sitting around out here...? Forde can't say he remembers leaving his own outside of his storage. Even the case he was just looking through had all of his belongings. 

Forde takes a step closer...

Oh.

_Kyle's._

That explains them.

Ah ah _ahhh..._ Kyle must have forgotten them when he dropped by last night. 

Understandable. _It's easy to leave trivial items around._

Especially since Kyle _has_ been coming around to Forde's room _quite_ a _bit_ lately...

"What's he doing now, then...?" Forde wonders to himself in amusement as he bends over to pick them up. "Surely he's not doing his typical morning training... Without his handy-dandy gloves..."

Forde laughs quietly, inspecting them further. The rough and torn leather is warm. _But not from the heat of Kyle's recent touch:_ Sadly only from nothing more than the warmth of the morning sun.

_"Handy..._ Quite literally, eh? Not all that unlike... Kyle himself."

It's a shame Kyle's always in such a hurry to leave.

Slipping them beneath his belt with the intention to return them to their rightful owner, Forde goes back to his usual personal routine. As he takes a comb he had momentarily retrieved from his drawer, Forde brushes his hair up into a tie.

Unfortunately, it hails nothing in comparison to the feeling of Kyle's fingertips smoothing it down. Just as he had last night as he muttered soft spoken side-comments into Forde's ear. About how he wishes for Forde to speed up in showing Kyle how to _next_ sketch out more than just static objects.

Proactive as ever, Kyle is. And yet he admittedly _has_ been struggling on what they have currently started tackling.

Don't misunderstand: Kyle is by no means _bad_ in his approach with charcoal. But it doesn't mean he should get _too_ far ahead of himself.

Forde had begun by filling jars and bottles with fruit, setting them out to show Kyle the approach of still-life. In these, Kyle still has room for improvement. They show shakey: As if he has hesitance in committing each and every line in the shape's figures.

So he doesn't need to throw himself into folded cloths and tangled locks of hair _just_ yet.

Forde chuckles as he leaves his quarters, in search of Kyle who he by now _highly_ doubts is taking the time to train.

Where does that leave next? Forde ponders, chin in his hand, as he trudges down the halls of the castle. Kyle wouldn't be sleeping in, _No._ If he were, he'd _surely_ be doing it in the positioning of beneath _Forde's_ sheets.

Instead of the times he decides he doesn't need any _extra_ rest: _Those_ mornings he simply departs early because he thinks he should be doing something productive; In order to make up for how often he has been lazing around with Forde these past few months.

At any rate. If he needs to so quickly leave, and _not_ because he's getting in more physical work since he has lost the materials needed to do so... Then what's left? Maybe he's reading up on something? Training the _brain,_ as it goes. Is he dealing with formal discussions? Teaching some of the younger soldiers something?

He's probably not doing _anything_ too important. _Come to think of it_. Kyle denies it every time Forde brings light to it: But in truth, _Kyle's been slacking lately._

But that's fine with Forde. Not only is Kyle's denial of this funny... _It's also quite cute_.

While fondly considering the recent behavioral change in Kyle's attitude, Forde continues his search on autopilot.

And it is just that: Automatic enough that Forde has no trouble in locating Kyle. Even without thinking too hard as to where he may be.

"Hhmm..." Forde says noisily in the frame of the entrance to the mess hall. _"Heeey!"_

Sitting with an elbow resting on the long cherry-wood dining table is Kyle. As he hears Forde's attempt to get his attention, he glances up from his breakfast and raises his eyebrows in momentary alarm.

Then, he frowns as he probably thinks Forde is being unnecessarily loud.

But that's all the more _reason_ to shout from across the room, before stepping closer in order to speak to him... If he didn't react so negatively, _Forde wouldn't have a reason to do it._

But since Kyle is fazed by almost _everything,_ It's more fun to take advantage of his reactions and tease him. (His _own_ fault, really)

"Could you quite _down--!?"_ Kyle even starts after Forde makes his way over and pulls up a chair "Why must you bring so much attention to--"

"You left these in my room." Forde cuts him off as he reaches for the pair of gloves at his hip.

"...Huh? **_Oh."_** Kyle blinks, and reaches out his hand to take them back for his own. "I was looking for those. _Thanks--"_

"Nuh uh _uhhh"_ Forde pulls his arm back, away and out of reach. "Hold up. So _you're_ allowed to leave your things out? But everytime _I_ lose my armor or my weapons or _anything,_ you nag me about it?"

"...Eh? Wh-What? Those are just my _gloves."_ Kyle quickly snatches his hand in closer again to try and take them.

"Yes. _Your gloves."_ Forde grins as he holds them away even further. "Which, You _misplaced."_

Kyle frowns as his eyes look between Forde and his little inconvenience of struggling to get his gloves back. "...It was just _one_ thing! You leave your stuff laying around _all_ the _time._ You leave stuff out on the floor where people could easily trip over and harm themselves with! It's just a couple of _gloves,_ Forde. Besides. I left them in _your_ room? _So it's fine."_

Forde takes a moment of silence as he licks his lips.

Forde has every intention of giving them back.

_He just needs to have his fun first._

"My room not significant enough...?" Forde asks in mockery "...Something about my room that makes it _exempt_ from being an unacceptable place to where _The Great Kyle_ can forget his things in... As opposed to anywhere _else?"_

Kyle grumbles and reaches far enough to finally take his not-so-long lost goods back. "Are you saying you have a problem with me? Do you not want me coming around any longer?"

Aahh. _Jack-ass._ Of course Kyle knows Forde loves his company. 

"...Of course I still want your visits to keep up." Forde sighs, inching his seat closer to Kyle's as he lounges an arm on the table to lean over it. "But it's not fair that you for some reason only think _my_ place is suitable to leave your little _messes_ in."

Kyle rolls his eyes with a smirk finding its way onto his lips. 

As he shakes his head, he takes a turn of his own to lean over the table: Hovering with intimidation next to Forde.

" _Your place is as good as mine_." Kyle states curtly under his breath.

"...Oh!?" Forde announces in understanding. He makes sure he says his next sentence rather loudly; Since Kyle is so counterintuitive in trying to keep this topic soft-spoken. "You think you can leave your stuff layin' around my room because you think my room is basically _yours_ now, too?"

Kyle falls back in shock over Forde projecting his voice. "Eh-H-Hey _Hey!"_ Kyle's face is red. "Don't go around just... _shouting_ about us!"

Why's he try so hard to keep it secret? He's already doing his part in slowly everyday disregarding more and more of his duties as a knight. 

The _least_ he can do is admit the _reason_ to the public.

"Hmm? Why not? Everyone knows what we are." Forde huffs "Everyone knows you've spent all your life with a huge crush on me. Even before you yourself knew what it was."

"F-Fine! If you don't value my company..." Kyle turns away to aggressively reach for the fork resting on his plate. Grumbling, Kyle starts picking his food apart. " _Then I'll take it some place else."_

...

_Awww..._

Forde nudges Kyle with his elbow.

Kyle's eyes flicker back over towards Forde for only a second before he exhales a bratty little _"Hmmph."_ and bites his bottom lip in frustration.

"I'm just messing with you. _Don't do thaaat."_ Forde has to apologize now, huh? "Please don't take your company anywhere else. It's okay if _you_ carelessly leave your stuff around my room. _I don't mind_."

Kyle's frown is crooked as he decides to tilt his head back and return his attention. "...It wasn't _'careless'."_

"...What's mine is yours...?" Forde offers.

"What's yours... is mine." Kyle agrees as he takes a bite of his meal and chews it carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everytime i reread their supports it kills me laughing bc its legit:
> 
> KYLE is the one to approach Forde. But when Forde responds back, Kyle acts like it's Forde's fault and gets all annoyed. Even though Kyle was the one who started it. 
> 
> And it doesn't end there. The whole thing is Kyle jabbing at how Forde acts and how Forde is stupid: but then eventually Kyle confesses he wants to be like Forde and even carries himself as a knight BECAUSE of Forde. ( AND IF HE WANTS TO BE LIKE FORDE BUT HE KNOWS FORD EIS STUPID I JUST???? oh my god kyles so dumb. hes legit just like. so dumb )
> 
> Like my dude that doesn't even make sense. Make up your mind. Constantly judging Forde only to say you want to be like him. Oh my God Kyle is so stupid. He is honest-to-God Tsundere and dumb as all fuck in hell.
> 
> I said it before but I'll say it again: Kyle is lightyears more dumb than Forde could ever be. And holy fuck I love him. I love Kyle Fire Emblem. Love that green mother fugger.
> 
> like personally i choose to believe kyle goes all childhood with a huge crush on forde (maybe he realizes its a crush maybe not but thats not important) and by the time theyre cavaliers hes like i like forde more than just as a role model ok im gonna do it im gonna talk to him as my EQUAL in terms of a knight-- not in terms of how we grew up together or what we worked towards.
> 
> and then he goes to approach forde and fordes all open and friendly and then kyles like shit fuck i cant do this *starts picking everything that forde does apart as wrong*


	3. Knock on Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me likey romanticization of silly uneventful retirement days.
> 
> fics be like. i make my own grammar and words here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, nothing i write ever has any good purpose or worth. no, it never has any sensibility nor do i capture it how i originally had planned. no, i should absolutely not still be here.
> 
> no, it doesn't mean i'm gonna stop.

Forde huffs a breath of hot air onto his hands; In order to warm them since he just got back from being out in the cool evening.

Stretching out his fingers with a sigh, Forde knocks the face of a wooden door to a home which is none other than half of his own.

Using their personal sequence of code: The easy to recognize knocking pattern is a prompt way to allow Kyle to know that it's _only just Forde._

Necessary? _Not really_. But it was something they had once practiced back in their days of careful protection; During the years serving Renais. Kyle had proposed it, saying it was an easy way to quickly tell if or not they had to be on _complete_ alert.

Nowadays, the almost _secret_ knock _has_ no safe-telling purpose. However, it _does_ have almost an _emotional_ purpose attached to it.

So, Forde at first gave Kyle a hard time in using it during the time when they were cavaliers. Even being: Forde tried as much as possible to _avoid_ activating Kyle's rhythmically elaborated code; At least when he _knew_ the situation didn't call for any _actual_ danger.

Not because the knock wasn't ever _useful--_ In fact, _It was_ \-- But, because, It would always get under Kyle's skin when Forde playfully decided to **only** participate... More or less... Only when he _felt_ like.

But, there is no 'danger' _here and now_. All there is anymore is just pure, admired feelings associated with that _emotional attachment_ portion.

So, At this point in time, _Forde routinely uses it as **often** as possible. _

Kyle himself had even stopped once they had at _first_ returned from the war... _There's no point in continuing a habit_ that was once used strictly for safety precautions; Not when nowadays, there aren't any cautions to have to prepare safely _for._

But, After the prolonged and continued use out of Forde-- Kyle seems fond of returning this sort of _password-maneuver_ back into their lives himself; ** _It being an unspoken keepsake._**

Forde smiles softly as he recalls these memories. Just like how he recalls them _every_ time he returns home. Or even every time Kyle himself comes back from being out; As Kyle sounds their personal knock with _his own_ knuckles on the opposite side of their door.

Forde reaches to unlock the switch as he finally enters.

_"I'm back_." Forde projects as he steps down the hall.

"Aah, Good." Kyle's voice reverberates throughout the walls. Its samely-tone is not surprised in the _slightest:_ Kyle can predetermine that the person stepping in is _almost always_ **Forde.** " _Did you get what I asked for_?"

Forde follows the customary sound until it leads him into their chamber.

_"Nope."_ Forde lifts a crate he holds in an arm up; Which he had just brought in from outside. Now, It is level with Kyle's chest. "They were all out of your usual. _Just the cheap stuff."_

Kyle grumbles as he reaches for the box to take in his own hold. "Your hands are cold..." Kyle remarks as their fingers graze one another.

_Kyle looks dissatisfied,_ as he reaches into the box's depth; So that he can inspect the shapes of wood that are held within.

"...Yeah." Forde agrees, casually.

They are a _little_ cool... Fingers especially. Forde even noticed it himself, earlier. But it's no _real_ concern if he was just going out to get what was needed.

Kyle half _hums,_ half _groans:_ As he tosses the particular single piece he was grading for usefulness back in to the pile. The drop once it falls onto the remainder of the stack sounds dull and hollow. 

"They haven't had the imported stuff for the past _three times_ either one of us have been there." Kyle looks disappointed about this. "...I wonder if they'll ever get it restocked..."

_"Harvest it yourself_." Forde humors, as he bounces on his toes.

Kyle glares in scorn. _He doesn't even need to say anything to get his point across._

Forde chuckles. "--If you wanted it badly enough; You would farm your own materials! Either _that,_ or accept the type that you have readily available."

Kyle clicks his tongue as he rolls his eyes. _"Forde,_ The trees around here are private property. **_I can't do that._ **And depending on what I'm trying to sculpt, some of _this_ wood just doesn't work, because it's all too _flakey_ or difficult to carve into. _Besides._ The only species growing around here are just **that:** _Not the kind I need."_

Forde clears a few inches of the space that they had between them, as he steps one leg closer. "Is it **_what_** the man _uses,_ or **_how_** the man _uses_ it?"

_**"Both."**_ Kyle argues. "And _**no** man_ would be able to use _this_ type of wood for what ** _I_ **wanted it for."

Forde steps a second foot closer. Kyle now right in front of him: The only thing really between them being a box full of wooden blocks.

"...Do you not want them?" Forde asks in hesitance.

"...No. They're fine. _Just not what I originally had them planned for._ " Kyle shrugs.

"Oh, _come on."_ Forde starts. "They can work as practice material--"

Because otherwise, _Forde wasted the trip to get them_. And honestly made himself a little _**cold**_ in doing so.

But, Kyle interrupts his worrisome feelings before he gets to vocalize them.

"Would _**you**_ use just ' _any old'_ brush in your commissioned paintings? _...Say,_ Why don't you fasten some of your own hair onto a _stick_ you found on the ground? You know, **Practice material:** _Use what you got_. It may open up a whole new _world_ of technique that you've never known... Here..." 

Kyle pauses to place his crate of measured-out timber onto the floor.

_"--Let me cut some of it off for you_." Kyle extends his hand to gently caress the silk of Forde's hair in his palm, until he reaches the fraying tips at the bottom. "We'll make our own brushes."

"Pfft..." Forde laughs; Regards to this _usual_ sort of _banter_ between them, that somehow also _always_ presents itself as their typical daily _bliss._ " **No way,** Kyle. You can't just _cut_ it _off._ It's ' _ **private property'.**_ **"**

Kyle faintly grins.

" _Good to know."_ He says. "It seems you understand where I'm coming from, then; When I put it into perspective. So _I'll_ just _wait_ until I have what I **prefer** to use when I whittle... _It's no big deal_." 

Kyle leans over to pick the goods back up.

"...So, I got you those for nothing? They're just going to go to waste, then?"

Forde can't help but want to pout: Since he still feels troubled. _Almost like he has let Kyle down._

Because he _does_ understand, actually. When Forde can't always get a hold of a more hard to come by pigment; Or a sturdy stretch of fabric... It admittedly _does_ change the end result of certain works to significant degrees.

"Hmm?" Kyle looks up towards Forde; The umber tint of his eyes shaded beneath his lashes are on the opposite end: Comparatively one of the _easiest_ colors to mix into painting. "Not wasteful..."

And for that fact, _Forde is thankful_. Because their reflected color will _always_ resemble **familiarity** and **warmth--** _But the shade is also incredibly resourceful._

"--I'll use these for _firewood._ I'll start one right away." Kyle elaborates as he now again holds the box; This time beneath just one arm. His other reaches for Forde's hand. "Because I told you when you got back: _You're pretty damn cold."_

_...Incredibly_ resourceful.

_Kyle **always** puts everything to good use._

"...I hope they have the particular supply you wanted next time." Forde adds apologetically. _Even though it's not his fault_. "I'll be sure to be on the look out..."

One side of Kyle's head tilts down, while the opposite corner of his mouth tilts upward.

"It's all right. _It is what it is_. But... _I hope they get more in soon,_ too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- insert my typical fic note about how i cant take being in chronic pain anymore. insert me still writing shit so clearly it means i AM taking the being in chronic pain anymore. even tho i cant take it anymore-


	4. Talk is Cheap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to think my Kyle bias is very obvious now actually. It's almost like it's difficult for me to not express in my writing about this character that he is the most important thing to me. Like I'm expected to take this character, who I love to try and understand deeper, who has helped me thru so much... and not hold a heavy bias towards him in what should also be equal in terms of Kyle AND Forde?
> 
> Sorry. Like some ppl say ur fav ship is a character u ID and then a charcter u crush on, but for me it is a character i ID AND crush on, and then it's his bfriend. and i just... yeah.

"You never did know how to hold your liquor..." Forde trails off in his sentence, as he rests his head on his palm and eyes Kyle's unnatural content smile.

_"...Can,_ too." Kyle tries to force a frown before his fuzzed brain has him smiling instead.

"Hmmm?" Forde is skeptical.

"See... _Cheeeck this out._ " Kyle fails immeasurably in trying to maintain what _would_ be his usual stern expression. Stretching his arm out in front of him, flexing his fingers in preparation; Kyle next wraps his hand around the base of his glass, and lifts it hardly even half an inch in the air.

Kyle raises an eyebrow as he licks his lips. " _Hoooldin' my liquor._ " Says Kyle, grinning and giggly.

...

**_Wow._ **

Forde just scoffs and shakes his head.

Courtesy of a simple chance-game of dice, between just the two of them that Kyle had earlier waged; Here Kyle sits with Forde as they enjoy an evening meal at a local tavern.

The deal was whoever wins: **_Dinner's on them._**

Now, as _luck_ would have it: This morning Forde did not have _much **of**_ it on his side. And yet... Watching how Kyle decided he would happily _revel_ in his personal victory, and the opportunity to take advantage of Forde's funds...?

Forde contemplates _otherwise_ about whether or not he truly lost.

"Eh... Eh heh _heeeeh..."_ Kyle continues laughing after getting no verbal reaction out of Forde. "I'm actually _holding_ it."

_"...Sheesh."_ Is all Forde can breathlessly respond with.

_While still prideful and glowing_ ; Kyle finally sets his glass back down.

Kyle seems to think he's _hot shit,_ ordering himself countless drink after drink. Clearly not because he _wants_ them, no. But because he's having the time of his _life_ in antagonizing and spitefully wracking up Forde's tab.

"You _waaant_ some?" Kyle scoots closer to Forde from across the table, until it is no longer _across_ and it is _now_ wooden chair side-by-side. "For **_some_** reason: It's making me feel _really_ good. _Fooorde..._ Why don't you join me?"

Kyle slides his glass a couple of inches closer to Forde over the table as if to share; Drunkedly smiling and engaging in more publicly-apparent, physical contact than any _normal_ Kyle would allow himself.

Kyle motions in so _o_ _n- **top** -of_ Forde, that the usually-tense muscles in Kyle's arm shove lazily into Forde's shoulder after he's nudged closer.

**_"No."_** Forde declines. "Because I know the faster that particular one's _gone:_ The _more_ you'll order."

_"...And the **more** it'll cost me_." Forde finishes as he considers the weight of Kyle's tiresome body crushing into him. _Forde reluctantly sighs._

"Mmm... Suit yourself... **_Forde._** You're only fun in the times when you **_shooouldn't_** be...." Kyle takes the next second to drearily hang his head; His semi- _lost_ expression to be shaded from Forde's view. "But... I kinda wanna say something... Promise me... _Prooomise_ me-- **_Please--_** Just this one thing: _Don't laugh."_

"Absolutely not." Forde chuckles involuntarily. "As if I could promise not to laugh at any of the things _you_ have to say."

Drunk-Kyle sniffs almost sadly after he hears this; As he times it with a pitiful little frown.

"Thought as much..." Kyle shamefully whispers under his breath. "So I... _So..._ So I guess I'll just-- **Uuhh--** _SayItAnyway."_

"Daaamn..." Forde whistles. "You gotta start **somewhere,** my friend. Come on, quit stalling... _Shoot."_

Forde thereupon scoots himself onto the edge of his seat, excitedly anticipating whatever Kyle suddenly has a mind to say, as long as it's the _wine_ that does the work for him.

Because...

_This should be good._

"...All this time..." Kyle starts. "I mean... All my liiife? I th-th-thought the thing that would, you... _you know;_ Help me understand everything? I thought, _'In order to get a better graaasp of the way the world worksss_ '...?"

Kyle pauses; blinking slowly as he tilts his head and exhales. Dazedly, he considers his obstructed thoughts.

"I guess... What I'm _tryna_ say... is? I always thought that being a _kniiight_ would be the thing to teachhh me aaah _lot._ About people... Aaand individual cultures. And what people's decisions are influenced by..."

_**"Yep?"**_ Holding back the urge to laugh, Forde lends an ear even closer, not wanting to miss any of this: Forde watches Kyle fondly as he's _struggling so hard to speak his mind._

"Yep." Kyle croaks. _"Yep._ But the thing about all of that? _I was wrong_. It's not all _thaaat_ stuff that helps me understand others... No. It'sss... **_You._** I was wrooong. _Because it's **you**_ **.** It's _you_ who teaches me _sooo_ much. _About everything._ You help me understand so much about _**every** thing._ About... How feelings and lives and thoughts and emotions and beauty all _work._ And by doing that you show me how **_I_** work..."

W-Woah.

"..."

_"...Hhmmm..."_ Kyle hums as he faintly smacks his lips. After Forde hadn't given him a reply, (Because... How could he? Forde is suddenly _dumbfounded.)_ Kyle slowly returns his gaze back up towards Forde.

"What's the matter...?" Kyle furrows one brow and raises the other, confused and ignorant. As if the stuff he just said wouldn't be enough to make _anyone_ flustered.

"I... I uh..." Forde doesn't know how to respond: Instead he ponders the intoxicated- _red_ that's blushing Kyle's face. Ponders how, after _hearing_ that, Forde ponders how he knows his own complexion certainly, instantaneously, _mimics Kyle's very shade._

_"What's wrong...?"_ Kyle asks again as he starts to pout; Completely concerned.

...Forde... _wants to hear Kyle **repeat** that stuff he just said_; However, he wants to again hear it with a better word-choice and explanation. In short: Forde wants to hear these almost _confessions_ more clearly, instead of them having to be said at the expense of a _loosened tongue._

"N-N-Nothing!" As he defensively waves his hand in front of himself to hide how fazed he is, Forde can't help but smile ecstatically. _"Th-Thanks for letting me know you think that way about me!"_

Because Forde knows-- No matter _how_ much he'd maybe _like_ to hear a Kyle with a _clearer_ head be the one to say that stuff?

Well... Forde knows the chances of that are dead-near _impossible._ So, Forde will just have to take and interpret them _this_ way for what they are.

Kyle inhales as he comprehends Forde's acceptance. Inhales and hitches his breath _surprised,_ after he **doesn't** get mocked and laughed at by Forde; Like he for _some_ reason was originally expecting.

Eventually, after all of Forde's reaction has registered, Kyle softly smiles.

**_"Good."_** The look in Kyle's eyes appear almost relieved; As if this were a huge thing for him to have gotten off of his chest. 

Which is all the more frustrating for Forde. Because if Kyle needs and _wants_ to say it: _Kyle should be able to say it when he's sober,_ too.

But that's fine... If what Kyle's saying is the truth. Then that means that maybe one day, Kyle'll learn _enough_ out of Forde to where he'll also learn: _There's no inherent shame in admitting one's affection._

Buzzed and seemingly satiated with having just shared a piece of his soul, Kyle grins as he eventually folds his arms in front of himself. Carelessly, Forde's dinner and Kyle's drink-- Which was a part of _many before it,_ are haphazardly pushed away by one of Kyle's forearms.

_Kyle rests his head face-down._

Forde feels a warmness overtake him: _H_ _is **own** sort of pure, emotional, **affection.**_

...Poor Kyle.

_He's practically hopeless on his own_.

"You tired?" Forde offers, reaching out to lightly pat Kyle on his back.

"Uhh _huhhh..."_ Kyle mumbles, muffled by his sleeves. 

"...All right. I think it's time we head home. _C'mon--"_

Forde reaches out a second hand to encourage in assisting Kyle to get up; But as it turns out, _Kyle won't budge._

"Kyle--?" Forde begins asking, but Kyle cuts him off with a slur.

_"--I'll pay the bill_." Kyle nestles his forehead further into hiding; His hair which shields his face is moderately matted in _sweat._

...Eh?

Kyle really would be a special-sort of emotionally _helpless_ all alone and without others to pay mind to.

That being said _... Good thing he's not **on** his own._

The stuff Kyle loosely said earlier about Forde helping him better-understand himself was a _blatant truth._

"C'mon, Kyle. _There's no need for that_." Forde comes in more closely in order to assuredly rest his chin onto Kyle's shoulder. As he reaches one of the hands that had been urging Kyle to stand a moment ago; Forde now softly runs it through the green, tangled mess of his curls. "The deal was _it's **my** turn to pay--"_

_"--And I abused that right._ " In a motion that is anything _but_ smooth, Kyle re-reveals one side of his face so that he can lock an eye with Forde's. "I had _waaay_ too much to drink... And for no good reason. I shouldn't have dooone this to you. I want to apologiiize... **_So I'll pay."_**

Finally, Kyle lifts his head up completely. As he does, he accidentally elbows Forde in the neck, from where Forde was trying so hard to console Kyle.

Too far gone still to realize he even just messily _did_ that _, Kyle fumbles for his pockets_. After some time, he digs out a handful of coins: Only to inevitably drop a couple of them as they clink onto the floor.

"I'll pay." Kyle forces again. " _I have silver_ \--"

Kyle goes to pick up what he just dropped: But not until _after_ his diminished reaction-time has him _mistakenly hitting his forehead into the corner of the table._

_"Owww..."_ Kyle groans while taking a minute to rub the bruising indentation that begins developing at this hairline; As a result of the blow he just unfortunately dealt himself.

The previously dropped currency, _eventually,_ once again sits in one of Kyle's trembling palms. His opposite arm reaches behind him in order to look to Forde as a means for support.

Kyle finds it, and holds firmly onto one of Forde's shoulders.

_Forde has no issues in providing Kyle with this bit of much-needed sturdiness_.

Because: It's looking a lot like Kyle is feeling genuine _guilt_ over having thoughtlessly ordered so much _mead_ and _mutton._ Kyle looks _miserable_ with himself; Like it was _criminal_ of him to celebrate what _should_ have been his **_win..._** So long as it's also being slightly _inconsiderate_ in respects to Forde.

And that's the thing about Kyle, Forde knows. _That's what Forde loves so much about him_. It may not be obvious-- To the _average_ person, at least-- But the most heart-warming thing about Kyle is his open willingness in trying to understand and accept the viewpoints and thought processes of _everyone._

It's so admirable. And Forde knows because of the fact that Kyle can also act a bit... **well...** _testy._ Well, Because of that: The _caring_ part coincidentally present in Kyle often goes unnoticed...

_But Forde notices it_. Forde notices how Kyle always, always, _always_ takes the time to consider not only where others may be in the wrong, but _himself_ as well.

"Heeere." Kyle stumbles to interrupt Forde being taken by his thoughts. Forde feels Kyle's hands slide down to Forde's; As he tries to pry open Forde's fingers in order to fulfill the difference. _"I'll pay."_

Forde manages to physically decline, forcing his hands into fists so that Kyle can _not_ be permitted to take responsibility for tonight's meal costs.

"You've already payed it, Kyle." Forde feels as if his heart is oddly full. "Although not _traditionally..._ But _you've already payed it."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to figure out at what point in my FordeKyle Writing History I realized "I'm not writing Kyle anymore, Now I'm just writing ME" But then I realize, it's always been that way. I just wasn't yet aware, at the beginning.


	5. Who You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuckin idiot ass bitch "i like writing kyle more i m gonma say fuck it only write kyle perspective more often i do what i want"
> 
> *proceeds to suddenly write forde more. so far have more forde perspective here* 
> 
> god when do the lies end

Forde pays a close mind to the careful touch of the pad of Kyle's thumb, as it runs itself left and right over the top of one set of Forde's knuckles.

_'How is it humanly possible for this single motion to feel as affectionate as it does? It's **Kyle** as the one preforming the act; Inherently tensive. Day-to-day troubled. Stern and hard-shelled. Cold and marginally heartless.'_

\--Is what Forde would have thought to himself years and years ago. _Now,_ **Forde knows better.**

While maintaining his tender caress, Kyle slowly lifts Forde's arm until his hand is level with Kyle's face.

Kyle softly presses his lips into Forde's warm-blushed fingers.

_"Just wh_ _at is it that you are doing?"_ Forde breathes in heartful awe.

"..." Kyle closes his eyes to nuzzle his cheek into Forde's hand. "...What are **_you_** doing?"

Forde opens his palm so that he has the ability to stroke his thumb over Kyle's bottom lip.

_"Easy._ I'm _asking what **you're**_ doing."

Kyle sighs. Under the weight of Forde's fingertip, Kyle follows in sweetly smiling.

" ** _What I want_**. **"** Kyle declares. "Coincidentally: What I want is _also what **should be done."**_

Kyle reaches to hold Forde's wrist in place under both of his own hands. _Now he can easily imprint a second kiss onto_ _Forde's skin._ This time, the firm act is done with a more _fierce_ deviation of passion: Kyle laying bare a show of how deeply his fond-admiration for Forde _truly runs..._

Kyle's plain-as-day covet embeds itself into the calluses Forde has accumulated; Sustained throughtout the span of their collective life-long portraits.

Scars from story after story... Be it one fleshed-out from the place of a battle, or one from the more tamely place of a brush.

  
"What else would you maybe want...?" Forde asks. "Maybe there's more out there that **also** ' _should be done_ '...?"

Kyle's lashes flutter. Beneath their shaded lids, Kyle's keen eyes shine full with an _endless past;_ Cloaked in **historically** - _devoted_ passion.

Yes. Forde's learned a thing or two.

**_Forde knows better..._ **

"There's nothing else I _could_ want." Kyle whispers.

**Forde knows now that this has _always_ been who Kyle is.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry my fordekyle brain is so huge sorry tender kyle makes me fucking soft sorrye i never asked to be this much fordekyle enlightened 😔😔😔stupid idiot teasing is fun yes. but tender ??? makes me aAahhhhHHhHHhHHHH


	6. Salt The Wound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can go tender... yeas...
> 
> but i can also go gross, mushy, slightly-suggestive, disgusting, borderline-cringe, Stupid.
> 
> and then sometimes it can be tender-stupid. all depends. bc the stupid brings out the tender, and vice versa. and thats what makes a fordekyle a fordekyle. at least in my eyes :^) and its my fic :^) so its all my eyes here :^)
> 
> and then sometimes the fic doesnt make anybsense. woops.

In the hazy fog of morning that casts warmth through the kitchen window, Forde approaches Kyle as he stands at the table in which they use for meal preparation.

"Hey." Forde starts... And it looks to Kyle like he may be up to something. He _usually_ doesn't go out of his own way to do _chore-_ like things. Not unless Kyle puts forth a serious request for his assistance.

This is not limited to Forde so much as making himself something to _eat_ for breakfast.

"Yes--?" Asking what Forde could exactly want or need in this scenerio: All things considered. _Kyle turns to face him._

Soon, he finds that in Forde's hand sits a small jar of densely congealed, rich-in-hue _maroon_ -colored preserves.

"Here! I want you to try some of this." Forde raises his arm out to place the jar in Kyle's hand. Its deep red tint reflects beams from the passing rays of glistening sun onto Kyle's tanned skin.

"...What is it?" Kyle asks as he accepts and inspects the substance through the container's glass. 

Forde grins almost anxiously, stepping in more closely and leaning himself into Kyle's arm.

"Just something Franz had delivered to me..." Forde states, resting his head on Kyle's shoulder. He stammers with the explanation that follows. "When he was just a little kid, I taught him how to _candy fruit_ and _make marmalade_ and stuff... He must of... _Uh--_ **Remembered,** it... And-- _Aaand_... Uh... _Given it a go again recently."_

At this, Kyle's eyes suddenly widen in anticipation. Ah, It's so fascinating how after all these years, there are _still_ things having to do with Forde that _Kyle_ has yet to witness. More about him to learn from, and more to discover about his astonishing individuality.

Eagerly, Kyle reaches for a set of cutlery that hangs fixed on the wall... _Too blinded by the immersion of high hopes, he is._ Kyle does not heed Forde's strange behaviour.

"Say! Maybe sometime you can teach _me_ this old recipe, too?" Kyle suggests through the uncontrollable release of his sincere smile. The grainy touch of a wooden spoon weighs in one of Kyle's palms after he's taken it from its hook. "... _So that the two of us can maybe make some together."_

Next, Kyle twists open the glass jar. Setting its metal lid down onto the table; It reverberates a ringing tone as the momentum from the drop causes it to spin in circles. Eventually, once it lies on the table completely flat and still, its piercing song comes to a sharp halt.

In the momentary silence that follows, Kyle sinks the bowl-end of his acquired long-handled spoon deep into the jelly's surface.

Ever slowly, a portion is carved out; As if to build this up in suspense. After Kyle's excavated himself a sole serving, he takes a moment to mindfully consider its visible qualities as it sits in the utensil's shallow crater.

_Here goes._ A small segment of Forde's life back from when he was just a lively child himself. _Kyle can't wait..._ It's exciting whenever something of old for one person, becomes something _new_ for another.

Carefully, Kyle lifts it to his mouth in order to sample this near-relic of Forde's past. He holds one hand underneath the spoon's dip to ensure that not even a _single drop_ will spill and become wasted.

And straight from the point of contact after Kyle closes his lips over the ladle...

It is...

**Salty.**

_Very..._ salty. De _hydrating,_ **salty.** _Abhorrently..._ **salty.**

This _**viscous gel**_ isn't actually _any_ form of sugared-dessert at _all._

**Kyle's face twists in involuntary disgust.**

Forde's, on the other hand, _grins with glee_. Not long after, he lifts his head off from where he had it resting on Kyle's shoulder: In order to capture the sight of Kyle's newly blatant _anguish_ in full-framed _glory._

"What in the _hell!?"_ Shouts Kyle. "There's no _way_ Franz was the one who made this! _This_ isn't something he would make! _**This** makes me **sick!"**_

Kyle starts fiercely grating his tongue over his knuckles after he sets the supposed ' _Demonic Ambrosia'_ to the side.

Perchance... _If he rubs hard enough?_ Maybe all of the salt that's issued a hidden ambush and continues to taint Kyle's palate will concede. Ideally speaking, it may level its stinging intensity down a notch.

Unfortunately, to no avail: Kyle's feeble attempt to rid his taste buds of this horror does little to _nothing._ All that results is a ridiculous showing of Kyle furiously rubbing his tongue raw as if he were a cat grooming its paws.

"I know! _He didn't make that._ I did! I got you _soooooo_ good!" _Just like the Sodium-Sneak-Attack's onslaught_ , **Forde's laughter perpetuates.** "That's _nothing_ like how I used to make jam. Back then I would require plump, _ripe_ strawberries. But earlier when I was out doing a couple of studies for sketching? All I could find growing in the fields were those lil' _**so**_ _ **ur** guys_ that never reach their true potential... So I decided I'd whip up something tart with 'em and add salt instead of sugar. Ya know, _See if I could get **you** of all people to eat it."_

Forde's laughter is _increasing_ in severity, in fact.

Kyle, however, **is not amused.**

Seriously. How dis _heartening!_ Kyle was truly delighted at the thought of getting to behold a fresh, uncharted glimpse of Forde's youth.

That's honestly Kyle's favorite part about living the gift of each and every day: The accumulating process of making memory after memory... _A flowing, roaring current;_ Composed entirely of limitless, _bliss_ -filled moments... _All spent by Forde's side._

...But evidence indicates that all _Forde_ had planned here was to play a conniving little trick on Kyle...?

And, **well--** Maybe this **particular** breed of predominantly _good_ -humored teasing that is so abundant in Forde? Maybe as it so happens; That's yet _another_ element to Forde's immaculate charm... _As much as Kyle hates to admit it._

Kyle grumbles, as he starts to finally accept that the seeped-sodium is **too far gone** , and he is _at this point in time_ unable to reverse the damages that have been dealt.

The crystallized enemy of granulated salt roots itself deeply into the structure of Kyle's mouth.

"You're not getting away with this!" Lightheartedly fuming, Kyle snaps back. There's a bite to his words in the same way the salt acts in nipping at the nerves in Kyle's gums. **"Two** can play at your foolish games, Forde. For your own good, _I pray you anticipated the likely occurrence of a counter-attack."_

Still, Forde continues on in his egotistical laughter; Looking as if he's about to lose balance and have to hold himself up by his knees.

But before he even has the chance to _start_ falling, Kyle leans down to boldy press his lips into Forde's.

It's supposed to instill a bit of _fear_ into Forde: **A menacing act of retaliation...** But instead, this firm kiss only just easily deepens into that of pure passion. 

Forde allowed himself no more than a mere fraction of a second in sequential alarm; All before he reaches to rake his fingers through the coarse curls of hair tickling the nape of Kyle's neck.

Kyle dips Forde lowly, as he's soon holding him in place; An arm wraps underneath Forde's lower back. Kyle's assertive effort to change formation results in Forde's tunic riding up. _Kyle can instantaneously feel the electrifying heat of Forde's skin below his fingertips._

When they break apart, Kyle knows his respective attempts were preformed much too long to be only _just_ a kiss initated for no-more than the purpose of shoving an unwanted taste onto Forde. Yes, _he knows as much._ Kyle may helplessly be falling back... **But he can't allow himself to surrender _completely._**

Kyle ends up staring into Forde's eyes.

"You were acting like it was repulsive...?" Forde cocks his head to the side. "But _that_ tasted quite good _. I think I want more--"_

Forde inches in as if to bargain for seconds, but he's tantalizingly tactical, and his threatening strike deliberately spares Kyle's vitals... 

" _Must have not gotten enough_." Kyle considers aloud while beginning to sneer himself. Admittedly, the necessary reflexes used to _smile_ are feeling a little numbed after all that _salt_ he just consumed. 

With a _false_ lack of concern, Kyle makes a scene out of pretending to _carelessly_ let go of Forde's waist. 

_Rudely,_ Kyle shoves his discomforting weight over-top Forde's shoulders; Reaching for the jar he had placed on the counter a moment ago. _Kyle collects his bearings._ Digging the spoon back into the glass to ration out a generous amount of Salt-Jelly, _Kyle holds it up to Forde's mouth_.

Obviously, Forde has enough resolution to not so motionlessly comply. So, Kyle reaches back to abandon the jar from his inventory once again.

_Kyle's going to need **both** hands for **this** adversary._

Only now equipped with a _dread_ -dressed spoon, Kyle uses his free set of fingers to grab a hold over Forde's jaw.

"Open..." Kyle feigns his physical aggression, not putting **nearly** as much force into his actions as he really _could_ be exerting. **_"...up--!"_**

"Mmm!" Forde mumbles and shakes his head. Arrogantly, he provokes Kyle with a smirk all the while he keeps his teeth firmly clenched. "Nnn _-Hmm_!"

"Agh. _That's it._ " Kyle has no options left but to advance in a follow-up kiss. 

Finally, after Kyle feels Forde relax his prior tension in order to reciprocate the attack:

Kyle breaks away and briskly shoves the Jellified Grievance into Forde's mouth before he is given the chance to shut it.

"Blegh-- Ugh! _**Gross!**_ Did I _really_ put _that_ much in this!?" Forde's pained face contorts just as Kyle's had earlier. Clearly, _he wants to spit it clean-out_. Yet there will _certainly_ still be a **lingering** aftermath in his saliva that he can't so easily find the solute to quell. Even _with_ Forde promptly deciding to swallow the spoonful _as fast as humanly possible._

Because unlike ignorant Kyle over here-- Forde's preemtive foresight prepared him with the knowledge that the weapon in question would deal a _devastating_ blight. One that no mortal would want to savor the tastes of on their tongue for any longer than they may have to already endure.

_"'Repulsive'?"_ Kyle repurposes Forde's earlier word choice with pride. **"Is it _not!?"_**

"Yes! _Damn...!"_ Forde sniffs. Prepared for the assault; But perhaps he greatly underestimated the deathly capabilities of his opponent. "It's-- It's so **strong...** _It..._ It kind of... **_burns!?"_**

"Think twice before you try and pull something like that on me again, Forde." Kyle warns. "If you _do?_ I'll just promise that you will suffer all I suffered in turn."

"I didn't mean the _jam!"_ Forde pouts. "I meant you snaring me in by kissing me. That was just **_dirty!"_**

Ahhh, Forde's trying an _emotional_ approach now? 

"It _'burns'?"_ Kyle asks with distinguished sarcasm. "My having kissed you... **_'burns'...?"_**

_"Yes._ **Burns my heart**." Forde crosses his arms in an informative manner. " _You're too cruel."_

"..." Kyle leans in closer. **_"You're_** too over-dramatic."

Forde gives Kyle a quick peck. "Salty..." Forde decides.

Whether it's from his own tongue or from Kyle's: Now the both of them can conclude nothing short of the pungent kick of _salt._

"...Salty." Kyle agrees in response. 

"Hmmm... I'm sorry for doing that to you." Forde all of a sudden... genuinely _does_ appear apologetic...

_But Kyle doesn't buy it._

"...Sorry for _my_ sake? Or for your _own_ because I also made you try it?"

**"Neither.** What I'm _sorry_ about is that I'm not going to be able to kiss you properly in a foreseeable while. Not without the both of our lips feeling as numb as the effects of a harsh winter wind."

_"...Huuuh..."_ Kyle sounds and starts to scowl; Realizing the reality of this truth. "Hmmph... **Well.** I'm-- Ehh... _I'm sorry about that,_ too."

"..." Forde ponders in silence.

"By the way..." Kyle starts, breaking the mutually upsetting silence that is bearing such a depressing fact. "Did you really _waste_ the **useful** time out of your day _just_ to make that _abomination?_ All with the only purpose being to _spite_ me?"

Forde's eyebrows shoot upward. Inhaling through his nose and exhaling a hum, Forde runs the tip of his tongue over his swollen lips in thought for his reply.

This reminds Kyle how the sharp, prickling feeling of _too-much-salt_ is still present in his own case.

Somehow... Kyle disregarded the majority of this sensation. And was too caught up in how Forde makes his _heart_ feel, instead.

Subconsciously and without intention, Kyle mimics Forde's mindless little lick over his lips.

"Of course." Forde says, honestly. He has no reason to put any real consideration into formulating a _lie._ "You're too much fun to get the better of."

_"...Typical_ of **you--"** Kyle grumbles. No _real_ ounce of disappointment can be heard in his voice. "...To seize an opening to agitate me _every chance you get."_

Because... **_Come on._** Can Kyle even _be_ surprised at that usual, _'need-to-tease-Kyle'_ personality of Forde's?

Forde laughs with endearment. The final charge is made to drive a killing-blow: _Forde wraps his arms around Kyle's shoulders and nestles his face into his chest._

"I'm sorry." Forde repeats again. "I was just messing with you... I didn't think it would be _that_ potent. It wasn't my plan to make you have to _gag..."_

Kyle sighs: **Defeated.** _Jeez._ In the face of Forde? _He's just too weak willed._

"I forgive you..." Kyle pauses for _juuust_ long enough. "... _But only because it made **you** have to gag,_ too."

Softly, Forde breathes a calming air as he lifts his head and props his chin on Kyle's chest.

Kyle bends his head down so that he can press his lips into Forde's forehead.

Which-- **For the record--** _Are still numb_. And Kyle can't even say he feels the entire life he's putting it. Not on _his_ end, at the very least.

But Forde? _Surely_ he still has sensitivity _everywhere else except his mouth._ Kyle is **sure** that at _least_ Forde is capable of feeling the focused love Kyle intends along side the action.

Or... The love he _tries_ to express. So long as the ghost of salt continues its disabling _haunting_ of Kyle's breath.

And, as for Kyle? For what it's _really_ worth, even with his current lack of _lip-_ luster: In this here position, Kyle can note Forde surrounding him in _full_ all elsewhere.

From the weight of his head buried into Kyle's neck...

From the security of his arms so tightly embracing Kyle's body...

_Right down to the beating of his heart._

"...You said I ' _wasted my_ _useful time'_ making that _accursed_ spread...?" Forde mutters, slightly amused. " _But I don't think I wasted **any** of it._ Since I'd much rather save the _real_ thing for when I get to make some with **you...** Because I haven't had the chance or _purpose_ to want to make any in _years."_

...Ah--

That sounds pretty sweet. 

_Kyle can't wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> both forde and kyle make terrible knights i feel. like i feel they really, really do not want to do it. like BOTH of them hate it... even tho it takes some time for both of them to understand this.
> 
> and after they finally realize this together? after that? well, post-war and "lived their days in happiness" forde and kyle truly keeps me going. because i really think they absolutely realize how much happier they turn out to be after they retire. like, being a knight never really suited either one of them. 
> 
> so that is why i want to ahhhh so often focus on how they live together ahhh!!!
> 
> ahhh my fordekyle brain hurts. ahhhhhh . fordekyle brain too big for my gotdamb skull ahhh !!!

**Author's Note:**

> I took the role of most annoying and uncreative person upon myself so YOU don't have to !


End file.
